Since I Cannot Succeed
by puppypersonLOTR107
Summary: Effects of Elphaba's thoughts during No Good Deed. Postmusical. Mainly musicalverse. Fiyeraba. Long oneshot, hopefully to be edited andor expanded in the future. R&R! Angstyfluffy.


Author's Note: Mostly musicalverse, perhaps some bookverse to come? We'll see. I've also assumed that Fiyero still sleeps as a Scarecrow, though I may actually change that before I post this…we'll see.

Disclaimer: I don't own Wicked. Surprise, surprise. No really, were you surprised?

_Since I cannot succeed_

_Fiyero, saving you_

_I promise, no good deed_

_Will I attempt to do again_

_Ever again_

_No good deed will I do again!_

_Because I knew you_

_I have been changed for good._

Elphaba and Fiyero trudged through the forest, ever to the South. They had reasoned that there was no Witch in that region to avoid, and that probably the land of the Quadlings would be of no great import to anyone, and thus likely less populated. Perhaps they could find a secluded region to hide, at least until they determined whether they would need to leave Oz entirely. Crossing the deserts would be a formidable task, however; they would need to have some sort of home base from which to make plans and gather supplies before they underwent such a journey.

The few hours before dawn always seemed darkest to Fiyero. Since they were in very thick forest indeed at the moment, Elphaba had consented to creating a bit of light for them to see their footing by. This faint light enabled them to make their way without stumbling so often, but it did little to light the deep and heavy darkness that blanketed the forest just beyond the illumination. There was no moon. Tearing his gaze from the ground it had focused on for most of the night, Fiyero looked up at Elphaba, walking a few paces ahead of him. They had barely spoken since starting out at dusk the week before; indeed, they had exchanged very few words since their joyous reunion at the castle Kiamo Ko, when Fiyero had discovered the trap door where Elphaba had hidden, waiting for him. Since the heartbreaking moment when they had agreed that it was impossible to let Glinda know they were alive, all conversation between them had been business-like and to-the-point, dealing directly with which direction to hold to and when to stop to rest. Although Elphaba barely looked at Fiyero during the night (when they were awake and walking), leading most of the time since she had been raised tramping through much of these lands, he watched her closely, wondering what she was thinking about. For each day as they slept, she seemed unable to find peace, and he was unsure whether she slept much at all. When they first bedded down, she would shyly, slowly inch her way closer to Fiyero, clearly longing for him to take her in his arms and hold her close. As Fiyero wanted nothing more to hold his beloved, both to give her comfort as well as to feel that peace that came from being near her, he was only too glad to do so. However, as they slept, Elphaba's sleep seemed troubled. Fiyero awoke numerous times to find that she had moved some distance from him in her sleep. At times her sleep was peaceful, but more often she seemed caught in some evil dream; her form was curled tight, her fists clenched, and her face drawn with…pain, or anger? He couldn't be sure, for her face was always partially hidden in her cloak, and it was difficult to read her expression, though it was plain that her sleep was troubled. Attempts to draw her back into his embrace seemed to worsen the situation, however, and Fiyero learned that the best he could do to ease Elphaba's sleep was to softly hum old nursery songs he'd learned as a child, for at times this seemed to calm her. His concern grew nightly, however, as the dreams' hold over Elphaba did not lessen with time, but rather grew stronger. Although Elphaba awoke each dusk seemingly ready for another long night of travel, Fiyero's watchful eye seemed to see her sit with her head bowed into her hands longer each evening before she looked to him to see if he were ready to be off; her gait seemed just a bit more forced, she seemed to stumble ever so slightly more often each night toward morning.

Fiyero himself was not having the best time of his life, either. He was, after all, a prince; he had hoped that he could have found a way to protect the girl he loved, to prevent this forced exile. He detested his inability to provide for her, for in their flight Elphaba had, out of necessity, taken the role of leadership. Her powers and knowledge of the region made it only natural. Besides these things, Fiyero wasn't quite sure how to react to his new status as a man made of straw. He was well aware that Elphaba had saved his life, and he was grateful, but still it was an adjustment, and he wasn't really sure how to react. Too, he knew that she felt it to be her fault that she had been unable to save him while keeping him whole and as he was, and while he wished it could have been so, he did not regret what Elphaba had done, and knew she had done her best and acted only out of love and desire to keep him from harm. Still, the uncomfortable topic, impossible to forget for hardly even a moment, written all over Fiyero's face as it was, erected another wall between them, discouraging communication.

A thorny branch suddenly occupied Fiyero's attention, dragging him out of his thoughtfulness. It had snagged on his trousers, and no sooner had he freed himself from it than he found himself tripping over a rock he'd not noted in his efforts to evade the thorns. "All right?" came Elphaba's voice, as she half-turned to see what had caused the noise that broke the general stillness of the forest by night. She realized as she spoke that she had not done so for nearly a day. Her voice sounded strange to her ears, raw and husky and not at all like her own which she was accustomed to. As Fiyero nodded and resumed his way along the path, Elphaba returned her gaze to the path before them; choosing the best path, then carefully gauging just how much light was necessary and adjusting the glow she continually produced accordingly.

Light. It seemed long since she had truly seen light. Elphaba had long withdrawn from the light, preferring to remain hidden in the shadows, that fewer might see and ridicule her. That she might not see herself, that she might forget the shame she felt on viewing her accursed green skin. However, she had never before gone so long with so little light, and she was surprised to find that she missed it. It seemed the darkness she had once sought had taken root in her soul (if she had one), and the darkness surrounding her seemed only to taunt her and prevent her from disengaging from considering everything that had gone wrong these past days, weeks, months!

Her mind flashed back to the terror and panic and rage she'd felt, casting the spell that had so disfigured the face of her love…but no. It was not prudent to dwell on such things now; there was no time, this was no place to fall back into those thoughts, that frame of mind – No – and, with an effort, she blinked hard, shook her head slightly, as if to banish those thoughts from her mind. She pushed on, leading Fiyero on a deliberate yet winding path through some of the densest parts of the woods, ever southward, ever darker.

Some time later, she heard Fiyero stumble again, and noted that it was not long till the coming of dawn. She felt somewhat relieved at this; while necessity kept her going through her weariness, the poor quality of her sleep was beginning to wear heavily on her. Sleep would be welcome, though she feared little rest would come with it. Her sharp eyes, seeking, fell upon a small thicket a few hundred yards ahead. Turning slightly, she gestured to Fiyero that they should be stopping to make "camp" in the spot she had chosen. Upon reaching the thickly woven grove of trees and shrubbery, the two moved quickly and efficiently; they had established a clean process to set up camp swiftly and silently. Once their thin bedrolls had been laid out and all their belongings properly concealed, they removed their shoes and wordlessly divided the daily ration of food from their packs. Their routine was well-established; after eating their meager meal, they simply laid down to sleep as best they could on the hard ground. However, it seemed to Fiyero that Elphaba had laid her bedroll slightly farther from his than usual, and he noted that she lay with her head farther from him, and face turned away. She seemed to be cold, for she lay curled tightly on her side, and she seemed from time to time to be trembling, only momentarily and imperceptibly, but as Fiyero had little else with which to occupy his mind, his focus on her increased his awareness of such details.

Dawn came, and once the morning had passed and the afternoon had faded, the air again grew chill. Fiyero awoke gently, mostly rested and content to lie in wait of the darkness that would soon enough shield their next march. As he lay, he studied Elphaba's form as she lay, still sleeping. Not peacefully, though; she constantly twitched and groped, by turns shivering as with cold and attempting to curl further in on herself. Fiyero hummed a low lullaby that had eased her sleep in the past, but it seemed to only worsen her discomfort. Concerned, Fiyero sat up on an elbow, gazing into the face of the girl he loved. Her cloak had fallen to one side, allowing him to see that her lips were set, as though determined not to make a sound. But her forehead was wrinkled, and she frowned as though she were in pain somehow. A single tear chose that moment to trickle down her cheek. As the skin touched by the tear turned pink, then angry red, Fiyero remembered Elphaba's sensitivity to water, and quickly moved to silently brush the tear away and prevent further damage. Too, he longed for even the slightest physical contact with her; the nomadic, silent life he'd lived these past days was wearing on him. She seemed not to share his desire, however; the gentle touch of Fiyero's fingers on her face was enough to startle her into awareness. She pulled away from him, obviously only half-awake but her reaction still hurt Fiyero. He sat back on his heels, unsure how to respond.

Elphaba turned her back on him, kneeling facing toward the sunset. Shivering, she pulled her blanket tight around her as she bent over her knees, shaking slightly as though sobbing, though she was well able to restrain the tears once awake and aware. Her thoughts were more difficult to thus control, however, and she found herself plunged into the memory which had prompted the dream that had resulted in the tear.

_Eleka nahmen nahmen  
Ah tum ah tum eleka nahmen  
Eleka nahmen nahmen  
Ah tum ah tum eleka: eleka:_

What good is this chanting?  
I don't even know what I'm reading!  
I don't even know which trick I ought to try  
Fiyero, where are you?  
Already dead, or bleeding?  
One more disaster I can add to my  
Generous supply?

She felt again the tearing of her heart, the knowledge that something had been sundered within her spirit (did she have a spirit?) that she had never known was there, something she didn't know how to fix. Despair came like a flood; reason knew that Fiyero was here beside her, that he was not dead – but Despair does not always heed the rules of logic. Besides, was he not truly dead, in a sense? The Fiyero she had known, had loved, was changed; he was yet the same, but he was not quite the same. The Scarecrow now, as so many called him. Could he truly love her when she had caused his disfigurement? She believed he might yet be able to, for his spirit was of that quality and capability of understanding and forgiveness. But if he knew how far she had walked down the path of Despair and heedlessness, would he ever be able to look her in the eye again? Would he ever respect her, trust her – love her? Certainly not! And yet, might it not be easier to simply tell the man – the straw man – what she had done, and settle the matter once and for all? Perhaps then the dreams would stop, perhaps the pain of rejection would be more bearable than the pain of not-quite-knowing. As she came fully awake, Elphaba pondered her options. Choosing what appeared to be the least of many evils, she decided to lay everything out before Fiyero. He had stood by her thus far; he had done too much good to deserve to have the truth withheld from him. Thus resolved, Elphaba turned to speak her piece.

No words came. Fiyero, startled at Elphaba's swift change in focus, from the distant hills to his eyes, her own seeming to pierce down into his soul. He in turn saw fear and pain in her eyes, and he breathed deeply, knowing that whatever followed next would likely be difficult for the both of them, and could possibly require quick thinking if he were to prevent Elphaba from withdrawing further from him.

"Fiyero…" Elphaba began, trying to produce the words to describe to this man the state she had found herself in when she'd believed he was dead. She shook her head, and searched for words, and shook her head again, until it seemed she could do nothing but shake her head. She grasped her long, black locks, and pulled, as though in an attempt to release the thoughts that seemed unwilling to escape their lairs within her mind. Standing, she swayed slightly, then braced herself against a young tree. As her balance steadied, she began again, "Fiyero, I…"

Having stood and grasped Elphaba's hand as she faltered, Fiyero attempted to ready himself for anything. He wasn't at all sure what Elphaba was trying to say, but he wanted to take this moment to say to this wonderful, brave, intelligent girl a few of the things he felt for her. "Elphaba, Elphie, I love you with all my heart, and I want to let you feel safe to tell me anything. Anything at all. I'm here for you, my dear…please let me in."

Turning sharply and gripping Fiyero's arm tightly, Elphaba's piercing gaze met his. She spoke. "Fiyero. You…I thought, I believed…I was sure you were dead."

Fiyero blinked, then softened his gaze despite the harshness of the eyes looking back at him. "Elphie…"

"No – no…" Elphaba wheeled about, detaching herself from Fiyero and taking refuge half behind the tree she'd steadied herself on a moment ago. She extended a hand of caution, indicating that Fiyero ought to keep his distance. Fiyero stepped softly forward, then stopped.

"You don't understand. You were dead. Nessa was dead. Glinda and I were estranged, potentially forever. I had nothing. Nothing but my rage. Nothing else. I…I lost myself. I lost myself in my rage. I still haven't quite found myself. Glinda was there, later, telling me to control myself. I couldn't. It was as though I was gone, and all that remained was a body and a mind acting out of rage and revenge." Elphaba sighed. "Then…then your message came. Your message came, and you were alive. Something came alive in me again, and I found the strength to find myself long enough to make up with Glinda and execute the plan you'd proposed. But now…oh Fiyero, it's all coming back, all coming back again to me. The despair is before my eyes, the rage is embedded in my heart. It's always present. I can't push it aside while I sleep as I can while I'm awake, so that I can hardly sleep, and what sleep I find is full of nightmares and fear." She half-sobbed, turning away and covering her face with one hand. "Whenever I look at you, all I feel is guilt…guilt that you were in danger on my account, guilt for leaving you, guilt for not being able to truly protect you. Guilt that perhaps you had rather been allowed to die naturally than live in this unnatural state! And you tell me that it's all right, and that you love me, and that you don't want to leave me. But it's hard to believe, my dearest, it's hard…it's hard through this haze of rage and despair that I can't wipe from before my eyes…" She paused, turned toward the East. "Oh Nessa, oh my sister! I…she's dead! Dead! My baby sister! Killed on my account, she whom I'd spent years protecting and caring for…"

At this, Elphaba seemed to reach a breaking point, and sank down beside the tree, clutching its slender trunk and digging her nails into its soft bark. She nested her head against the clean-smelling, mossy tree, wishing herself anywhere else, anytime else, in any other situation.

_Since I can not succeed  
Fiyero, saving you  
I promise no good deed   
Will I attempt to do again  
Ever again  
No good deed  
Will I do again!_

"Fiyero, I promised; I promised on your sacred memory that I was evil, that I would do no good deed, ever again. I…I don't know how to come back from that."

Fiyero struggled within himself. All his being longed to go to Elphaba, huddled by her little tree, and comfort her, reassure her that it didn't matter, everything was going to be fine. But could he really say such a thing. He was horrified to learn the depth the girl had reached, the torturous state her heart had endured. He had known sorrow in his life, but never something of the sort which Elphaba had. Even putting aside her childhood tortures, the humiliation and pain she'd endured at school, the events of those last few days were nothing short of cataclysmic. She'd learned that her father was dead, then been shocked to discover that her best friend's lover in fact loved her. After a night with him, she'd realized that her sister was in mortal danger. Leaving her now-lover behind for his safety, she went in search of her sister, but arrived too late to prevent the death of her last remaining family member. Then she was forced to physically fight her former best friend, and finally forced to abandon her boyfriend to probable torture and death. No wonder she'd snapped somewhere! But as all this flashed through Fiyero's mind, he was at a loss as to how to respond. Surely Elphaba's reactions were normal and reasonable under the circumstances, but that did not provide a clear path forwards for the future at this point.

"Elphie, listen to me." Fiyero gently placed his hand on Elphaba's shoulder where she crouched, and when she accepted the contact, ventured to sit next to the girl and place his arm about her shoulders.

"You listen now. Elphie, I don't know how you made it through that day. I am so sorry you had to go through that. I don't really know how this is supposed to work. I don't know how you're supposed to heal after something like that. All I know is that I'm here. I'm here, and I'm me. And I love you, and I won't let you lock yourself away. You need to talk about these things, and," he looked conspicuously to the right, then the left, perusing the region they had settled down to sleep in. "I don't see too many options for a listener around here." Fiyero turned Elphaba's chin so that he gazed into her eyes. "Elphie…I love you so much here. Do you believe me?" Elphaba hesitated, then nodded, slowly, her eyes flickering back and forth from the horizon to Fiyero's face, as though she couldn't bear to look too closely at the face of the Scarecrow for too long. The Scarecrow was suddenly reminded of something from his journey with Dorothy before his reunion with Elphaba. "Dear, when we were traveling with the Tin Woodman, whenever he cried his joints rusted. I know it hurts you to cry, but if you need to, if you want to, I will stay right here, and I will hold you…and I will wipe your tears so that you will not be burned. It's all right, dearest; I know you miss your sister, and it will not affect our progress overly much to take some time now to deal with these things, to talk things through."  
Fiyero began, tentatively, to rub Elphaba's back. When she didn't pull away, he switched to deeper-tissue massage. As her muscles relaxed, the girl began to slump ever so slightly. A few minute later, Elphaba lay with her head in Fiyero's lap, as he continued to massage her back and arms. Unexpectedly, the girl began to sob. First silently, softly, then the sorrow wracked her entire body; still silent at first, but after a few minutes progressing to full-blown sobbing. Fiyero gathered her in his arms, and held her close. He wiped the tears that welled before they could escape and burn her skin.

Abruptly, Elphaba gathered herself, freed herself from Fiyero's grasp, and began making preparations to leave for that night's travel. However, once the two were on the road, Fiyero noted that Elphaba seemed less distant, though they did not speak more often. She turned to look at him, now not only to check that she was not moving too quickly, but also to simply look into his eyes, or to brush his hand with her own. He saw the pain lying behind her eyes, but it seemed to lie more lightly on her mind, for small scenes of natural beauty caught her eye more often, and she would point them out to him. She had laughed once at a particularly funny joke Fiyero had told her, although she'd remained more quiet the rest of the evening than had become common. When they lay down to sleep, Elphaba took a few minutes to herself to pace the edges of camp, then came to settle herself within the arms of Fiyero for the day. Fiyero heard the girl muttering to herself from time to time, but her sleep seemed less troubled. Often she seemed restless, but the relentless tension and nightmares that had previously plagued her seemed to have dissipated for the most part. She fell asleep that night, two weeks after they had set out Southward, nestled in Fiyero's embrace, sleeping peacefully with the smallest of smiles on her face. Fiyero himself slept well enough, and it seemed that he could cope better with his own sorrows when he held Elphaba close. There was something unspoken in the way the two gazed into each other's eyes, something more in every touch than simple touch. Somehow they resolved to each be there for the other when their troubles overwhelmed them. Somehow, they knew that this would always be enough.

A/N: I'm hoping to go through this thing again and do some serious editing. I'd love to put some stuff in concerning Glinda. I realize it's rough; I basically had a really hard time believing, after the convincing performance I saw of "No Good Deed" that Elphaba could move on from that point unscarred. Obviously it can't really come up again in the musical (and the book is so different, obviously…), so it seemed like a logical option for a fanfic. So here it is! I don't write many, and I'm not really great at it when I do, but I'd greatly appreciate any constructive criticism, etc. Please don't flame me and please be nice! I'm a science student and not a writing major in the slightest, but I still like to write a fanfic every now and again. Thanks!


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